


Like Father, Like Son

by monsterhugger



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Peter is Martin’s Father, The Lonely - Freeform, backstory reveal, these tags don’t make sense read the summary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:06:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27877310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterhugger/pseuds/monsterhugger
Summary: Peter finds out he’s Martin’s father, and decides he has to tell his son who he is. Martin is not thrilled.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	Like Father, Like Son

_You had a child, you know. A son._

Peter knew he had a child. He didn’t like to think about it. He tried not to remember. He’d done everything he could to make sure that child’s mother never found him-never gave her a number, an address, even a last name. He never saw the child, had no desire to. He knew he wouldn’t care. It would only be a waste of time.

_You left long before he was born, but his mother knew it was you. She knew the child was yours before she even knew he was her_ son. _A cruel joke, isn’t it? She couldn’t even have imagined at the time just how much he’d come to resemble the man who abandoned her._

He’d managed to avoid this child for so long. Decades, he’d avoided his burden with no trouble at all. Abandonment was the nature of a Lukas after all-to abandon, to be abandoned, to avoid the closeness that comes with a child at all costs.

But leave it to Elias to spoil that.

Elias, Peter’s one vice, his one blight on an otherwise pure and lonely life. He’d essentially inherited Elias along with the Magnus Institute as he kept up his family’s donation, and meetings with Elias were often the closest thing to a conversation Peter had in the course of months. He didn’t enjoy their meetings, at least not at first, but he soon realised he didn’t detest Elias’s company as much as he did the company of others, and quarterly business meetings turned to pleasant dinners of ever-increasing frequency.

_He always had your eyes, though. Pale blue eyes, beautiful eyes, really. And when his mother looked into those eyes, I’m sure you can guess who she saw looking back at her._

It didn’t take long for Peter to become aware of the extent of Elias’s powers. It only took one candlelit discussion of the intimate details of Peter’s childhood for him to realise just how well Elias knew him. Elias, a man he and his family had met only on business matters every few months, and yet he knew of every lonesome forest walk Peter had ever taken. He knew of the cold streets Peter had traversed alone at night, of the terrifyingly large and utterly empty nursery where he’d spent his most formative years. Every detail Elias listed as if it had been torn directly from his head, every word that spilled from his mouth unbidden as Elias watched with a smile, all of it sent a shiver down his spine. It was unsettling at first, but after a while it became sort of pleasant. Intimate in an inhuman, uncaring fashion that Peter soon realised he was quite fond of.

Elias had waited quite a while before mentioning his son. Surely he knew what a sore spot it was for Peter, how uncomfortable it made him to even imagine having a family, being with someone and with their child. But at the end of the day, Elias was wonderfully cruel. Peter loved that about him, but he had to admit it was a dangerous trait to be so fond of.

_The name she gave him isn’t important. I’m sure you wouldn’t recognise it anyway. But I know him by the name of Martin. Martin Blackwood._

He knew the name Blackwood all too well. It made his heart drop when he heard it, the reminder of his first and only relationship. He refused to think of her as his first love. He had enjoyed toying with her, leading her on and taunting her with the prospect of love, of a husband, only to disappear without a trace. But he never loved her.

_Martin wasn’t a difficult child, but he was no angel either. Children of the Lonely rarely are, as I’m sure you’re aware. He was a troubled child. Hard not to be, knowing his father abandoned him like that._

Peter was content with never meeting his son. Happy, even. He had no intention of tracking down the kid, and would have easily gone his whole life without meeting him if not for Elias’s wager. Of course Peter couldn’t resist a wager, and Elias knew that about him, but this wager really seemed skewed in Peter’s favour. All he had to do was get one of Elias’s employees to pledge themselves to the Lonely, and judging by Elias’s allusions to employing Peter’s son, he fully intended for this employee to be Martin. It would be easy. It had to be. Martin was already so close to the Lonely, given both his Lukas heritage and his unfortunate upbringing. He was practically part of the Lonely already.

_I think you’d be pleased to know your son didn’t have any true friends growing up, though it wasn’t by his own decision. Children are so very cruel, especially to someone like your Martin who didn’t have his big, strong father to protect him._

When Peter first met Martin, he was still somewhat surprised to see a grown adult before him. He’d been aware of his child growing older, but when we thought of _his bastard_ he’d always imagined a toddler with messy hair and ragged clothes and sad eyes that screamed “why won’t Daddy come home?” Martin Blackwood, of course, was an adult by the time he and Peter met. He’d inherited his father’s size, nearly matching Peter in height and having a similarly bulky form. He had his mother’s hair, though-soft and curly and practically shining. Peter didn’t like that he thought of her when he looked at his son, as if he was proud of something he’d made with a lover. Martin was not the product of love. Peter kept reminding himself of that.

Elias had been right about his eyes. They were unmistakably Peter, that same pale blue that every Lukas seemed to share. In fact, Martin really did look a lot like Peter, if a bit younger. It was unsettling to see. This was his son, there was no mistaking it, and he felt sickened.

_His mother was as cruel as his peers. She wasn’t a saint with you, sure, but abandoning her didn’t help. And she took it out on the closest thing she had to you-your son._

Peter didn’t tell Martin about their relation at first. He didn’t want to frighten him, and he figured it would be better to ease into making Martin a true Lukas. Martin was, as Peter predicted, a solid bit of the way there already. He was content with solitude, living and working alone without complaint. He apparently tolerated his coworkers, but they didn’t seem close, and when he started going days without exchanging a word with them he didn’t seem any worse for wear. There was his Jon, but at the moment Jon wasn’t exactly getting in the way, and with any lock he’d stay in hospital even longer. He was very near death after all, and Peter secretly hoped he’d do more than just get close.

He didn’t feel bad for that hope. Hearing the state Jon was in, it might have been a mercy. A peaceful death for a man in horrid pain, and a spot in the Lonely for a no-longer-pining Martin.

_Martin always wanted to meet you. He always thought if you were there, you would care about him. He wanted to believe it wasn’t your choice to abandon him. Imagine his disappointment if he ever found out._

Martin wasn’t exactly eager to fall into the Lonely, but he took to it easily enough. After a while, Peter was practically the only person Martin saw on a daily basis. It was then, Peter decided, he could tell Martin about his parentage.

“I’d like you to come to dinner with me,” he told Martin. Martin looked up at him with those sad, blue eyes. He looked tired.

“You can’t fire me,” he said. “Not without Elias.”

Peter chuckled. “I’m not firing you. You’ve been an excellent employee. I’d just like to have a meal and a conversation with you. Forget about work for a while.”

Martin nodded, returning to his work. He didn’t seem enthusiastic, but Peter hadn’t expected him to be. He was simply agreeable, as usual.

_It was particularly cruel of you to leave his mother without any money. Your son didn’t have to grow up as poor as he did, but you simply had to remain detached. I’m honestly amazed how little you cared for him._

The restaurant was on the fancier side, and Peter had to assure Martin the moment he arrived that he’d be picking up the tab. They were seated in a secluded area, at a table clearly meant for couples wanting a private date, but it would suffice. The Lukases did not eat amongst other people.

“So what’s this all about?” Martin demanded as soon as they’d been seated.

“I’d like to get to know you a bit better,” Peter replied.

“You? Get to know someone?” Martin scoffed. “Don’t be coy with me. What do you want?”

“It’s… about your father,” Peter said. He saw the way Martin’s eyes widened. Even now, he still longed to know his father.

“What about him?” Martin asked. “I mean, we’ve never even met, did he… did he pass away?”

“No, he’s very much alive.” Peter extended a hand and tried his best to smile. “It’s… it’s me, Martin. I’m your father.”

Martin regarded Peter coldly.

“You’re not.”

Peter sighed.

“I am. I’m not sure how to go about convincing you, but… are you really surprised you’re a Lukas?”

“A Lukas,” Martin repeated.

“You are very drawn to the lonely, aren’t you?” Peter said. “And you’ve got my eyes.”

Martin stared into Peter’s eyes for longer than was comfortable. Peter looked at his son, at the freckles that dotted his all too familiar face, at his pale blue eyes behind his glasses, at his hair which reminded Peter all too much of the boy’s mother.

“Oh, god,” Martin muttered, placing his head in his hands. “You’re not lying.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Martin. I’m just trying to help you.”

“Is that why you’re doing this? Protecting me? Because I’m your son?”

Peter thought for a moment.

“Maybe. The fact that you’re my son definitely makes the Lonely more fond of you. It’s easier to protect you like this, when you’re already… predisposed, as it were.”

“You think I’m like this because I’m your son? I mean, the whole Lonely thing. You really think that can be passed down?”

“It could be. Certainly seems to run in the family, I don’t see why you’d be the exception.”

“Hm. That’s funny. I always thought I felt lonely because my father-because _you_ -abandoned me.”

“Martin, I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?”

Peter hung his head.

“No. No, I’m not. I never wanted a son. I don’t… I didn’t care about you then. And I suppose I care about you now, but not as a son. Is… is that okay?”

“I… it shouldn’t be.”

“But you don’t mind.”

“No. I guess not.”

“A real Lukas, then. You didn’t need me, Martin. You turned out perfectly fine. Just a bit Lonely is all.”

“No,” Martin scowled. “No, that’s not it. I needed a father. I needed someone who cared about me, who wasn’t my mother, who was well enough to hold down a job and who would actually fucking _bother_ with me. But you were never going to be that person, were you? You would’ve been worse than my mother. I’m not upset you didn’t love me. Frankly I’m scared to think what it would’ve been like if you did.”

“You think… you would’ve ended up like me. A monster.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“Would that have really been so bad, though? Being an avatar of the Lonely? I mean, better than becoming a living worm hive or turning to hot wax or becoming a fear-eating eye-covered monster. You’d still be human.”

“Maybe you don’t find it so bad. But I don’t want that to be my life. That fear-eating eye-covered monster is my _friend,_ , alright? I’d rather not feel obligated to abandon him.”

Peter shook his head.

“You’d get used to it,” he said. “It’s really not so bad. Comforting, even, not having anyone you need to care about.”

“No,” Martin said firmly. “I don’t want to be a Lukas. You didn’t want me when I was a kid, so you can’t have me now.”

“Think it over then. When you get tired of caring for your mother, when your Jon finally lets go in the hospital and you’re torn to bits, maybe then you’ll be more inclined to be a Lukas.”

“No!” Martin exclaimed. “I’m not like you. I won’t be like you. And if this is really what you wanted to see me for, I’m leaving.”

Martin stood, pushed in his chair with a loud slam, and walked out with his coat under his arm. Peter tried to be upset at him leaving, but he didn’t really mind. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Martin’s disdain didn’t hurt. It was only fair, really-if Peter didn’t care about his son, his son may as well not care about him.


End file.
